


he's on his knees, i'm lying flat

by scandalous



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Bisexual Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Blow Jobs, College, Crushes, Facials, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sexual Inexperience, Songfic, from mendel's part, mentioned homophobia and use of the f slur, porn with little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalous/pseuds/scandalous
Summary: Whizzer Brown is the campus' not-secret, Mendel Weisenbachfeld is a guy who doesn't wanna admit he's bisexual. They meet at a party -- things escalate.





	he's on his knees, i'm lying flat

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys so this happened after listening to whizzer going down covered by brandon uranowitz for like an hour. i love this ship and the fact no one has written for it is biphobia at its finest. mendel is bi because i said so.
> 
> This also fills the "bukakke/ **facials** " square in my season of kink bingo card.
> 
> enjoy!

College is, allegedly, the best times of your life. Mendel doesn't really believe that— he's drowning in essays and homework and exams. Studying psychiatry is exhausting, and maybe he should've chosen a different career, but he can't back out _now_ , twenty-two and in his third year.   
  
He doesn't share classes with this man, but he knows him. Everyone on campus knows him, really— be it by name or by face. One can spot him right away with his... _unique_ look, for a lack of a better word.   
  
He wears bright colors— pink and yellow and baby blue. He wears tight jeans. He wears small earrings that are impossible *not* to notice. Whizzer Brown is the campus' not-secret.   
  
And Mendel... he thinks about him a lot. About his laugh and his eyes and his clothes. And he knows Whizzer is a homosexual. A man into fellow men. A faggot, as his parents would say. He doesn't like that word; there's something awful about it. Maybe it's the fact he's gotten it written on his school lockers, back in high school. He was too close to his friends and his classmates didn't like that. The word rings like a bell every time he hears it be shouted towards Whizzer Brown's direction, and he wants to run towards him and tell him it's alright.   
  
His guts have twisted for men before, and he's gotten hard over men before. But never as strongly as with Whizzer. Maybe it's the security he carries himself with, the loud confidence, the pins on his jacket that just give more hints to his homosexuality.   
  
He's confident, and Mendel doesn't get it.   
  
He's had sex with girls before— quick flings, some of them drunk. Just the shedding of clothes, furious kissing, and thrusting. He's never touched a man that way, and he'd prefer to save it for never. If he does so he'll be one of them, and his parents will be disappointed.   
  
He tries not to think about Whizzer too much. The party he was invited to booms (he isn't sure why he was invited— he's just a Jewish guy who doesn't talk much and is drowning in work). The jukebox plays rock and everyone's dancing.   
  
Someone slides in front of him in the booth. He looks up, a glass of beer in his hands. No words come out of his mouth for a few seconds, a few moments, and the man in front of him doesn't seem to mind.   
  
_Whizzer Brown_ , of all people, is sitting next to him. He could die right in this spot. He's wearing his best— a dark pink jacket that drapes over his frame, a red shirt underneath it and tight jeans. He looks stunning, and he just wants—   
  
He doesn't dare to finish the sentence in his head.   
  
"Hi," he says softly. Whizzer looks up, looking a little uninterested. How is he supposed to flirt with a man— with anybody, in fact? "I'm Mendel, Mendel Weisenbachfeld."   
  
Whizzer lets out an airy laugh and nods. "That's the Jewish-est last name I've heard in my life. And I grew up in a half-Jewish family in a Jewish neighborhood."   
  
Mendel nods in understanding. Whizzer's half-Jewish, that's really cool. "Did your parents get married by a rabbi, or...?" he asks before he can stop himself from sticking his nose in people's business.   
  
"Oh, they never married," he says matter-of-factly. "You know who I am, right? My name, at least?"   
  
"Everyone on campus knows who you are," he says, tilting his head. "Whizzer Brown."   
  
He hums. "Yeah, that'd be me."   
  
"The flaming homosexual. I don't know how you haven't gotten beaten up yet."   
  
Whizzer gives him a dry smile, a curt chuckle. "Oh, nobody said I haven't."   
  
"Shit, dude, I'm sorry," is Mendel's immediate reply, flushing pink.   
  
Whizzer takes a cigarette and lights it up with a lighter. He looks pretty smoking. "Don't sweat it."   
  
Mendel has never talked to Whizzer before, and he's already doing everything wrong. He asked him about his parents first thing, he made him admit he'd been beaten up. He's got negative chances of becoming his friend now.   
  
But Whizzer looks relaxed, at peace— interested, even. It makes his heart speed up a little.   
  
"Nobody's listening, right?" he asks after a few moments of silence. He taps his fingers on the table, takes another sip of his beer.   
  
Whizzer doesn't have anything on him, alcohol-wise. He doesn't seem like the drinking type. "I don't think so, no. We're in the clear."   
  
Mendel's a little tipsy already, and fuck, Whizzer is so *beautiful*. Brown eyes and brown hair and light skin and... he's so doomed. He licks his lips.   
  
"I think I'm bisexual," he says— voice quiet, a little shaky, a little anxious. Whizzer's eyes don't widen, and he nods, urging him to continue. "But I've never had like... contact like that..."   
  
"Just say you've never fucked a man. Or been fucked by a man." He looks up at the crude words, face flushing red. "Don't sweat it, Mendel Weisenbachfeld. Just say it."   
  
"I've never had sex with a man before," he says, laughing a little.   
  
He nods in approval, telling him to continue.   
  
"And like, I just... I... it's complicated and a bit confusing, yeah." He shifts his weight and bites his lip. He's jerked off to men before, and he's fantasized about them. But... _but_... there's no many buts to be had, really. "I dunno how I'll figure it out."   
  
Whizzer waves his hand around, almost to say goodbye to Mendel's worries. And then he says, voice crude and filthy, "I can suck your dick."   
  
Mendel's eyes widen, and then widen more at the shot of arousal he gets. Whizzer is *shameless*— he kinda has to be shameless to be this open about who he is— but it still makes his dick twitch in his pants.   
  
He clears his throat, face pink. "I heard that right?"   
  
"Yeah." Whizzer cocks his head. "I said that I could suck your dick. Always wanna recruit new people to the fucking men cause, y'know."   
  
Mendel laughs and gets up. "My dorm? My roommate will probably get laid tonight too, so." He tries to calm his nerves— Whizzer is going to suck him off. He's never been sucked off before. He imagines cum dripping off his lips or cumming down his throat and his dick twitches again.   
  
"Yeah, that works," Whizzer nods. The walk to the dorm is silent, mainly because being too open about what they were going to do could end terribly. But being seen with Whizzer would create enough rumors.   
  
Mendel doesn't exactly mind.   
  
As he closes the door behind him and Whizzer immediately leans in to kiss him, he doesn't mind at all. The kiss is hungry and needy and his lips aren't all that different than the ones from the women he's kissed. He's a little more needy, a little more rough and harsh. They're still as nice.   
  
"Whizzer," he says breathily, digging his nails into his shoulder. He notices how bitten Whizzer’s fingernails are; anxiety, he guesses. He kisses him again, and again until there’s no air left in his lungs. Whizzer with his hair messed up and lips swollen is a beautiful sight, and he’s not even with him on his knees yet.

“Yes, Mendel?” he asks, grinding onto him and groaning softly. “You’re a Psychiatry major, no?”  
  
He blinks a little at the question. “Are you trying to make small talk while you’re grinding on me?”   
  
His smirk is lopsided and it makes his heart beat hard and fast. “Oh, absolutely.”

“Yeah, I’m a Psychiatry major,” he nods. “Photography, no?” He bites back a moan when he feels Whizzer rolls his hips against him. Whizzer nods, kissing him again and tangling his hand on his curls. He tugs, and he moans, and he’s a little lightheaded with how turned on he is.

Whizzer pushes him onto the bed, and he settles between his legs. He unzips his pants, licks his lips as he strokes him. His hand is a little calloused, and God, it feels so fucking good. He bites his lip, bites back a moan.

“Come on, Mendel Weisenbachfeld.”

A part of his brain notes how Whizzer’s voice goes around his name and his last name, almost with care. They barely know each other, God.

“F-fuck,” he breathes as soon as Whizzer gives a tentative lick to the head, hips rolling up.

His lips curl into a grin and he takes the head into his mouth. His mouth is so warm, and feels so good — he thinks he’ll die. He bucks his hips up as Whizzer sucks him off. He swirls his tongue around the head and bobs his head. He does it so carelessly and so good that Mendel thinks he’s sucked people off thousands of times before.

He closes his eyes, bucks his hips. “Fuck, Whizzer, Whizzer — never thought it’d feel this good, fuck.”

Whizzer grins as much as one can with a dick on one’s mouth. He licks up and down, and he makes sure to lick at the underside, right where it’s most sensitive. His hips buck and he cums with a loud moan. He expects Whizzer to do anything but to pull off, having cum fall on his cheeks and chin and lips.

He opens his eyes, the grip on his white bed sheets so tight his knuckles whiten. He looks at Whizzer, and if he hadn’t just came he would’ve again at the sight of him. He’s got spurts of cum on his cheeks and chin, and he looks filthy — he looks dirty.

“Fuck,” he whispers, letting his head fall onto the pillow. He shivers through his orgasm and the aftermath. Whizzer crawls up to be at his side, rubbing his neck softly.

“You liked that?” he asks, smugness dripping out of his voice.

Mendel lets out a shaky sigh, still not over the sight of Whizzer with his cum on his face. He looks absolutely filthy, and it makes his heart pound against his chest. He’s hot — he’s so fucking attractive. He thinks he’ll die just by being there with him.

“I loved that.” He doubts for a second before seeing how Whizzer is reaching for his own fly. He’s overpowered by the need to help him out. Or rather, the need to suck a dick. Whizzer Brown’s dick. _Fuck_. “Can I— can I get you off?”

He chuckles a little, unzipping his fly as he laughs. “I can get myself off.”

“I’d like to suck a dick for at least once in my life, Whizzer.”

“Mhm,” Whizzer nods, pulling his pants and boxers down. They swap positions; now he’s the one set between his legs, and he doesn’t know at all how to do this.

He licks from his balls to the tip, and Whizzer shivers. He takes his cock in his mouth, bobbing his head like Whizzer had before. Whizzer moans a little, bucking his hips up into his mouth. He licks up and down, kinda like a lollipop, and does his best on making this man — this beautiful, handsome, pretty man — feel good.

Whizzer twists his fingers around his hair and pulls his head down a little bit. He chokes a little, but he keeps sucking him off, trying his best. Even though it’s awkward and having a dick in his mouth feels ultimately weird, he enjoys it. Especially when Whizzer moans and whines and whimpers under him. His sounds are so pretty he could probably get hard again.

He cums a little into his mouth, and he pulls off to have it on his cheeks and chin, some of it on his nose. Whizzer straightens up a little, elbows propped into the bed, and he curses quietly. “Mendel Weisenbachfeld, you look fuckin’ amazing.”

“I do?” he asks, heading to his dorm bathroom. He looks dirty, but it’s sort of really hot. He cleans his face with water — mainly to not have to explain why is there a towel with cum in the laundry to anyone. Whizzer is waiting by the door, a grin on his factions. “Yeah, I do.”

He laughs prettily, throwing his head back. “Yeah, you do. Hand me a towel, gotta clean myself up.”

“But —”

He takes the towel and cleans his face up, putting it on the sink. “You can take it to the laundry.”

“What will they think?” Mendel asks, tilting his head.

“That you jerked off. C’mon.” He gets closer to him, kissing him on the lips. He can taste both his cum and Whizzer’s, and something about it makes his whole body burn.

He kisses him back, and once he pulls away he’s smiling. “See you?” Mendel says tentatively.

“Sure,” Whizzer nods. “I can probably get you some lube. You seem like a total bottom, so.”

Mendel opens his mouth. “That means —"

“That I think you take it up the ass? Yes.”

He opens his mouth yet again to argue, but his cheeks flush red instead. “I… wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

He smiles smugly, kisses him again. “See you soon, Mendel Weisenbachfeld.”

Before he closes the door behind him, Mendel says, “See you, Whizzer Brown.”

The dorm feels kinda empty without him.

 


End file.
